


Five Conversations Dick and Roy Had in Prison

by zarabithia



Series: Dick and Roy in Prison A/U [2]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-09
Updated: 2007-10-09
Packaged: 2019-05-21 16:09:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14918577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Dick and Roy's relationship grows through the years as they share a cell at Blackgate.





	Five Conversations Dick and Roy Had in Prison

Roy isn't sure, exactly, how Grayson managed to get them a cell together.  All he knows is yesterday they weren't sharing a cell and today they are.  Roy decides to chalk it up to another part of "currency can buy you everything" policy that seems to run the show at Blackgate.

It seems to be all about power here, and power is something Grayson definitely has.  Bizarre as it is, not all prisoners are created equal, and Roy knows that if he is going to survive in his new home, he's going to have to get used to it.

"I'll take the top bunk," Grayson says and Roy barely holds back the derisive snort. The other man has, for all intents and purposes, bought Roy, and he wants to have polite conversation about bunk choices. Roy's not certain what the point is, really.  It's not like he has any say at all, given what he understands their relationship to be.  "Sure, Grayson."

Irritated blue eyes look over at him, and Roy fights down the panic that washes over him; the one that says if he isn't careful, he'll end up going back to fending for himself.

Roy should want to, but the part of him that promised he'd come back safe and sound to his wife and daughter knows that there's always a possibility that he won't survive another shower incident.  

He doesn't ever want to break a promise to either one of them. Not on purpose.

"I'm 'Grayson' to everyone else," the other man finally says, explaining his irritation.

"So, what am I supposed to call you? Master?" Roy swallows down the bile threatening to rise at the very idea.  He doesn't do such a good job and the bile lodges itself halfway down his esophagus, refusing to retreat any further.

The laugh is unexpected, as is the way Grayson walks over, grabs Roy's chin, and tilts Roy's face up to look directly in his eyes. "What would be the point? We both already know you belong to me. I see no need for a continual verbal reminder."

"What am I supposed to call you then?" Roy tries not to sound as pissed as he is about Grayson's comment.

"Dick's my name.  That'll do."

Roy fights down the urge to tell him exactly what an appropriate name it is, too, as Grayson pulls him towards the bed.

Roy follows reluctantly, knowing he has no other choice.

"So do you want me on my stomach?" Roy asks, trying to ignore the bile that has begun its climb anew. "Or .. on my hands and knees..." not on his back, he pleads silently. Not the way his attackers had done in the shower, because Roy isn't sure he's strong enough to keep his manliness intact if that's what Grayson wants. He's pretty sure he'll just break down and cry instead.

"None of the above," Grayson says and adds, before Roy can truly begin to panic, "I'm out of currency for this month, so we won't be able to get ourselves any lube."

Roy doesn't mention that his attackers didn't seem to need any lube for their activities, so he doesn't see why Grayson is much different. "So..."

"On your knees, Harper."

**********

The pictures arrive in the mail daily for Harper, and if Dick doesn't receive nearly as many packages as his cellmate, or any at all, Harper is smart enough not to notice.

Or, more likely, Harper's too lost in the rapture that his mail causes.  

Dick doesn't blame him, really. If his family had survived the attack on his circus, or if Bridget hadn't been too ashamed to bear his name after the conviction, he might have been as ridiculously giddy at mail time as Harper.

But there are no smiling blond-haired moms and pops back home, no ever faithful wife, and certainly no button-nosed little girl to hold her teddy in one hand and reach out for daddy with the other.

Dick had wanted a child like that, once, but today he wonders if Bridget would ever have allowed any daughter of theirs to so much as know Daddy was in prison, let along spend hours drawing him self portraits.

Probably not, Dick decides as he watches Harper fix yet another masterpiece to their mirror. Dr. Clancy would likely cite it as mentally unhealthy for the child's welfare.

"Her name's Lian," Harper offers out of the blue, and Dick tries not to feel smug about the fact Harper's not cringing in his presence anymore.  That much is Lian's doing, he supposes.  Lian and Donna, and Mom and Pop and the yet unnamed brother and sister.  

"She's beautiful," Dick says automatically, because it's rather obvious. There might be cuter little girls, but Harper's enthusiastic preening over the child makes it impossible to actually believe that.

"Yeah," Roy agrees, sitting down on the bunk bed.  "She really is. Takes after her mom that way."

"Her dad's not bad in the look department either." It is a hell of an understatement. Dick had wanted the red head from the moment he'd walked past his cell door.

And he'd made every deal possible to make that want a reality.

Harper laughs, and Dick wonders what kind of life the other man must have had to laugh that fully, that freely. It's a laugh that consumes Harper's entire body, and makes Dick want to know every inch of it.

Since Harper is his, Dick should really have less guilt about the quenching of that desire than he does.

*****

Roy has always know that the time for this would come.  In fact, he's known that the lube has been sitting there on the edge of their sink,  taunting him with his ultimate purpose for the past two months.  

Roy figures that's Grayson's way of trying to get him used to the idea.

It was a nice thought, but no amount of preparation could have made this pleasant.

Roy closes his eyes and counts to ten, figuring it doesn't matter what his face looks like, since Grayson can't see him.   

At least Grayson hadn't made him lay on his back.  Roy is thankful of that...more thankful than he can even begin to express.  Grayson instead has Roy lying on his side, legs tucked in a slight curl as Grayson fucks Roy's ass with a speed and determination that matches the hand jerking Roy off.

It feels nothing at all like the shower incident from months before, and if Roy could manage to relax enough for the bile to make its way back down into his stomach, he supposes he might actually enjoy it.

It's good then that he can't relax that much because Roy doesn't want to consider what a betrayal to Donna that might be.

Unlike the grunts of his attackers - and no, Roy can't stop comparing Dick to those men, no matter how unwanted the comparison might be - Grayson's moans are gentle, almost pleasant sounds murmured against the base of Roy's neck.   They're very different from the triumphant shouts of Roy's attackers - screams which had resonated off the shower walls and continued to do so in the nightmares that still plague his dreams.

Roy tries to block those sounds out, just as he tries to prevent his own whimpers that seem determined to show appreciation for what Grayson is doing.

He is equally unsuccessful at both attempts, something that is apparent as they take turns climaxing.  Grayson comes on Roy's back, and Roy spills onto the mattress and the other man's hand.

"I told you," Grayson says after a minute or two of the bonelessness that Roy hadn't indulged in with his attackers and shouldn't indulge in now. "I told you that I'd make it better for you than they did."

Roy won't admit the truthfulness of Grayson's statement.

Nor would he admit to the almost comfortable feeling Grayson's arms around him cause.

*****

"Tell me about Donna."

It's not a command that Roy is expecting and honestly, they've had sex enough times that Roy has almost begun to think that he knows Dick pretty well by now.

Apparently not well enough.

Roy glances down at the hand wrapped around his cock and frowns at the way Dick's hand has stilled at the base of his cock.  
"What - what do you want to know about my wife?" Roy asks. Coherency never has been his best trait during sex and that truth combined with the shame he always feels when he thinks of Donna these days makes his question a little more snappish than Roy intends.

Dick reminds him of his impertinence by merely squeezing one of Roy's balls with the hand that is not resting at the base of Roy's cock.

Long before Roy stops seeing stars, Dick's voice reaches him. "Tell me about her. What she liked.  Where she let you put _this_." The squeeze is to his cock this time, and it isn't nearly as painful.

"No," Roy says defiantly, and expects his balls to be in jeopardy again, but instead, Dick leans up and presses both of Roy's hands into the mattress. His grip on Roy's wrists isn't a friendly gesture, and the sneer on Dick's face makes that clear in case the crushing weight of the other man on top of him does not.

"You're mine, Harper.  You don't have the option of saying no." The grip on his wrists tightens.  "Unless, of course, you think Donna would prefer the alternative to me owning you."

Roy shudders under Dick, unable to do anything but remember his assailants in the shower nearly a year ago.

To his credit, Dick lets go of Roy's wrists at the shudder, moving back into his former position.

"Tell me about Donna," Dick insists again, and this time, Roy knows he has no choice.

"Pretty vanilla by your standards," Roy says, wincing and shuddering at the same time as Dick's hand moves slowly along his cock in time to Roy's words.

"Missionary only princess, then?" Dick asks, and his voice holds interest rather than the sneer Roy expects.

"N-no. She liked being on top."

"She let you put it anywhere else besides her pussy?" Dick questions.

"I - sometimes we'd go down on each other," Roy confesses, and he thinks of the way Donna's cheeks still reddened every time she offered.  Then he wonders why he doesn't just lie to Dick.  If he was a good husband, he would have thought of that.

"No very often, I take it?"

"No."

"Holidays, birthdays, special occasions?"

"Yes."

"I take it she never let you fuck her in the ass?"

"No." Gods, he can't even think about asking her for that.

Not Donna.

Dick stops stroking him long enough to enter him.   Dick claims a kiss - not the first they've shared but certainly the hardest.  Roy doesn't struggle, and the relaxing of his muscles to allow Dick entry is almost second nature by now.

"Pity. Nothing feels quite as nice as shoving your cock up a nice, tight asshole." Dick shifts and begins stroking him again, and Roy wonders what kind of a lousy husband he is that his body reacts so strongly to this man after such an obvious betrayal to his wife.

"I wonder," Dick continues, "If you'll ever be able to fuck her again without thinking what it might be like."

Roy grips the side of his mattress and tries not to wonder the same.

********

Dick's not cared for someone like this since Tim chose to end his own miserable life. Dick knows it's strictly a one-way street, but in the two years they've shared a cell, Harper's stopped wincing every time the door slams shut.  He's even starting kissing Dick back, and Dick believes that Harper is allowing himself to enjoy the sex.

Therefore, Dick hates what he has to do.

Unfortunately, the confidence that his Harper has displayed recently in Dick's presence - in full view of the rest of the prison population - has set the rumor mill at Blackgate into overdrive.

There are those that would challenge Dick's ownership, and Dick cannot allow that to happen.

He instead makes his own claim clear. The fact that he does so in the same showers as Harper's original rape among a hooting crowd of appreciative onlookers is unforgivable.

But the alternative is worse.

When the crowd is gone, and only the two of them remain - time bought off of one of many lousy and corrupt prison guards -  Dick lets go of Harper's wrists.  

"I'm sorry," he says softly.  "They didn't leave me any choice."

Green eyes refuse to look up at him, but Harper doesn't pull away when Dick holds him close.

Dick is uncertain whether that is a sign he has broken what belongs to him or not.


End file.
